


Catch Me When I Fall

by let_it_out



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Come play, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Objectification, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyfidelity, Porn, Rimming, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let_it_out/pseuds/let_it_out
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark manages to hack into the security camera for Nick Fury's office.  All he wanted, was to make sure that he knew everything. After all, how else can you know when a lying liar who lies is actually telling the truth? However, it turns out that Nick has some secrets that Tony wasn't expecting when he sees Clint, Phil and Nick involved in a lot of office sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me When I Fall

**Author's Note:**

> All events depicted within follow risk aware consensual kink (RACK). Whilst not seen in the fic, all parties involved in sexual contact with each other had discussed the possibility of a scenario as seen below along with agreeing upon both safewords and safety signals should they be needed.
> 
> Written for the Avenger kinkmeme prompt: Tony finally succeeds in hacking into the security around Fury's private office, which was the only part of SHIELD he didn't have access to. (Not for any specific reason, Tony just hates the thought of people trying to keep him out of anywhere.)
> 
> He's not exactly sure what he expected to see, but it sure as hell wasn't Clint Barton on his knees, with his head on Fury's thigh and Phil Coulson sitting on Fury's desk, running his fingers through Clint's hair. He wasn't expecting to see Fury fingers wrap around Clint's wrists, holding him as he sucks Coulson's cock, and he wasn't expecting to see both of the fuck Clint over the desk before leading him over to the couch in the corner and covering him with a blanket while he slept.

"Sir?"

Tony hums to himself as he moves the floating blueprints around from one near-invisible screen to another, giving himself more space for the enlargement of Bruce's lab on his main one. It isn't really in acknowledgement of Jarvis, more a noise that he doesn't realise he's making as his thoughts zip around his head creating 3D images in his mind's eye and solving equations in the corners. However, having been around Tony for so long and clearly knowing all of his idiosyncrasies, Jarvis proceeds with his line of thought and his synthetic speech breaks through to Tony’s conscious.

"I thought you should know that the final security systems for SHIELD have been breached. Is there anything you want me to look for?"

Shaking his head slightly, Tony analyses the layout of Bruce's lab in an attempt to work out where to put a Hulk-sized shower, or one for multiple people - who knows what Tony's going to have to accommodate for in that place - and says, "I'll take a peek later, just put the live feed up over there." He gestures absentmindedly to his right and out of the corner of his eye sees the flash of the video as Jarvis adds it to a free space. Nothing that really distracts him from what he's doing though, and soon enough he's slotted in an emergency shower large enough for six people (you can never be too safe around science. Look where it got Bruce in the first place!) as well as multiple points for fire extinguishers, fridges, ovens and a variety of cupboards that can store as much glassware as Bruce's heart could ever desire to the floor plan.

As Tony reaches for his coffee to add a little energy boost to his brain, that's already working far past overdrive for 99.999 % of the population, he hears Fury's voice and flinches, expecting the man to be at his shoulder and prying into his things like normal. Tony turns to demand a reason for the sneaky bastard being in his workshop when he realises that the voices isn't addressing him and is coming from his speakers, not actually with him in the room. Of course, Jarvis would have told him had there been an intruder in the Tower, but clearly Tony is not at his best today. He opens his mouth, words to mute the feed dying on his tongue when he hears a second voice, and, because really, who could turn down insight into what Agent and Fury are like behind closed doors? instead decides to leave it running. Invasion of privacy aside, they shouldn't have made it so easy for Tony to hack into their systems. They practically invited him in. It's all on them.

Content just to listen, Tony types in some commands that set about ordering the correct supplies for his final plans for Bruce's you-know-you-want-to-be-here-look-at-all-of-the-shiny-things-I-can-give-you present in motion, that is until the tone of Coulson's voice attracts his attention. It still sounds like Agent: stern and rather authoritative, but there's a soft edge to it that is never used around Tony. Not that he's surprised. After all, Tony tends to annoy a lot of people and getting a rise out of Agent is far more entertaining than letting the man think he actually cares about him. It's a complicated relationship, but it's just the one they have. Perhaps Tony should offer him another trip to Portland now that the Loki ordeal is well and truly over...?

"You did really well today, Clint."

Tony snorts derisively to himself, because Barton, the reckless fool that he is, only needed rescuing from a five storey drop today, but he guesses that as things that Clint does go that's rather minimal on the damage scale. Thor swooped in to save him before Barton could even get a scratch on him. Tapping in a couple more commands and switching from Bruce's lab to the communal gym, Tony quite happily lets the background noise of their conversation float around in his brain. That is until he hears something that makes him stop dead in his planning. When Clint responds, and granted it's a pretty normal phrase, just a simple "thank you, sir", it's with such reverence and with a complete lack of the attitude Tony has come to associate with the other man, that Tony does that whole turning thing and looks at where the feed is showing up in beautiful HD glory. Clint behaving in this way is something that Tony has to see so that he can mock him for it the next time he sees him. Who knew Clint could actually be a good boy?

Of all of the things Tony expects when he actually looks at the screen it certainly isn't the sight he got.

"Jarvis, enlarge the video and lock down the workshop," Tony mumbles, propelling himself backwards a couple of feet in his chair to get a full view of the scene before him, legs spread wide and weight resting on his heels.

The camera in Fury's office is directed so that essentially the whole room can be seen; including behind Fury's desk where Clint Barton is kneeling with his cheek resting on Fury's thigh. Clint’s eyes are closed and a blissful smile is on his face. One of Fury's large hands is resting, far more gently than Tony would have ever imagined them capable of being, against Clint's neck, thumb stroking in soft circles that seem to be adding to the euphoric look. Coulson stands on the opposite side of the desk to the other two, looking as though he's completely torn as to whether to maintain his distance or join the both of them on the other side. His composure is as unguarded as Tony has ever seen it and it actually makes Tony feel more intrusive than anything else in the scene before him. It doesn't mean he's going to stop watching though, because whatever is going on (and Tony has a pretty good idea of what he think it is and that is not something he was expecting from Agent) he definitely doesn't want to abandon it.

Plans are in motion for the Avengers moving into the Tower permanently, instead of a couple of them drifting in and out as they please as they have been in the past months. Not that Tony would ever admit it out loud, but he actually quite likes the idea of having them all where he can keep an eye on them. However, this isn't the sort of eye he was planning on having. There are going to be cameras everywhere for security of course, but not in the bedrooms. Just because Tony's rather fond of voyeurism doesn't mean that he's just going to go and watch anyone he can to get his rocks off. If any of them decide to sex it up in any of the areas he's designated for communal use however, then that's all on them. So, as Tony sees it, having sex in your office when you know people could find you, is practically an invitation for visitors to poke their noses in. Surely Fury has people wanting his attention all day long; Director of SHIELD is hardly a low-key position. Anyone could just walk in there. Natasha alone could bypass any lock on the door in a heartbeat. Then again, there's always the chance that Hill is on the other side of the door standing guard like a disgruntled bulldog. Tony's not too sure why a bulldog, he's pretty certain they're not even a breed that is used to guard anything, but it just seems to fit Hill. So, yeah, as he sees it, if SHIELD's best and brightest are having sex on company time and property, then it's Tony's duty to watch.

Not that they are doing anything yet. Clint's still just leaning against Fury as though there's no place in the world he'd rather be and Fury seems more than happy to let him stay there. It actually pains Tony a little to see Clint this way. Not in a "how could Clint be letting this happen to himself way", definitely not, more in a Tony would actually like it himself situation. But, before Pepper got sick of Tony's heroics and decided she needed a break from being his CEO, his girlfriend, his whole fucking world, Pepper’s reaction to him coming home from a mission was to cling to Tony as though trying to convince herself that he was still alive, well and the same egomaniacal narcissist he always had been before pulling herself together and throwing work in his direction until some actually stuck enough for him to do it. At least if he was getting praised for coming back alive it would have made him more considerate of trying to do that. Maybe. Probably. Ok, likely not. Cutting every wire possible may be well and good, but sometimes someone needs to take a hit and who better than him? Pep could certainly survive without him, but positive reinforcement was definitely something Tony could get behind. Clint was one lucky bastard.

"You know the rules though," Coulson says and the soft edge to his tone has been replaced by hard steel.

Clint's eyes shoot open faster than the arrows he fires and his blissful expression is replaced by one of thinly concealed annoyance. "But I didn't even end up in medical," he snaps and that's the Barton that Tony is used to. He may still be kneeling, but Tony can almost feel the waves of righteous indignation coming through the screen as Clint protests.

Tony isn't too sure where to scrutinise, Agent looks like he's going storm round the desk and reprimand Clint for his words, but at the same time, Fury's hand has moved forwards so that the fingers now resting under Barton's chin force Clint's head back enough so that he has to look at Fury in the eye.

"But you put yourself in more danger than you needed to for no reason, so you're still going to get punished," Fury tells him and even he has a softer edge to him for all of the authority he's exuding in his head-to-toe leather. Tony should have suspected really. Who wears that much leather without being partial to at least a little bit of kink?

Tony can see that Clint's gritting his teeth and biting back his preferred response, knows the other two must see it too, even as Barton jerks his head in a small affirmative motion as Fury releases him. "Of course, sir."

Coulson has moved around between the desk and Clint by the time Fury finishes reprimanding Clint. Tony watches as Agent casually leans back against the edge of the table, his arms bracing some of his weight.

"Only a little one though," Coulson promises, as he reaches out a hand to stroke through Clint's hair, which Barton happily leans towards. Clint seems to have settled back down, he's no longer vibrating with resentment of being scolded for something he thinks he shouldn't be punished for. He's likely realised he's the one at fault because Agent plays far too much by the rules for Tony to ever see him dole out something undeserved. Maybe it's even Coulson's words, perhaps his touch that has done it, but Tony's hardly in Clint's head enough to know.

As Agent moves his hand away, Clint attempts to follow the comforting caress, but Fury clamps his hand down on Clint's shoulder and makes a disapproving noise at the movement. There's a noticeable bulge in Coulson's trousers and Tony can hardly deny that he's being affected by all of this too. However, for the moment, he's content just to watch, the low thrum of arousal more than manageable for the time being. He hears the sound of Coulson's zipper being pulled down and Phil (Tony supposes it's time to actually acknowledge Coulson's first name after he's seen his cock) pulls out his half-hard cock (who would have expected him to go commando? Tony's never going to be able to look at him the same, even before whatever is going to happen) and gives it a few slow strokes. This seems to be torture for Clint, who's straining forwards slightly against Fury's hold clearly wanting to get closer, but knowing to not actually reach out and touch without some sort or permission. Perhaps this is going to be Clint's punishment? Tony muses to himself, palming his own erection through his jeans to give himself a little extra buzz. There's no denying how hot a debauched Clint with Phil's come over his face would be. Tony wonders if Clint would be allowed to lick himself clean afterwards, if they'd let him lick it off their fingers and Tony lets out a small groan as he imagines it. He’s hoping that it will be the case because witnessing that would give Tony wank fodder for the next month at least.

It isn't the case though. Phil lets go of himself, once again leaning back properly on the desk and Fury's hand loosens its grip on Clint's shoulder.

"Go on then, you know what to do," Fury prompts and Clint all but lunges forwards to wrap his lips around the head of Phil's cock, one hand curling greedily around the base to hold it steady and the other grasping tightly at Coulson's still clothed hip. "Ah ah," Nick admonishes. "No one said you had permission to touch."

Clint pulls back from his attempt to take all of Coulson down his throat, Phil doing a valiant effort of keeping the look of disappointment off his face as it happens. "What? Why?" Clint asks; it's clearly something he wasn't expecting.

"That's your punishment," Fury says leaning over to take hold of Clint's hands in his, removing them from Phil. "Hands behind your back." He releases Clint's arms so that Barton can comfortably position his own arms before taking them back and keeping them in a restraining grasp. Fury's free hand moves to stroke at Clint's neck once more and Tony sees the slight tension that has built up in Clint for what he sees as an unintentional infraction leech away at the touch.

"What about Phil?" Clint asks quietly. "If I can't touch him."

"Just with your hands," Phil tells him. "You can suck without them, can't you, Barton?"

"Of course I can, sir," Clint says with a small but confident smirk and leans forward again, some of his weight now braced in Fury's hold instead of in his hands on Coulson and licks up the underside of Phil's cock; his actions possibly causing all four men to moan. Tony isn't too sure. He knows he does at least, and then Tony's scrambling to find some lube that he knows has to be around the workshop somewhere, buried in one draw or another and holds in a triumphant cry when he finally manages to unearth it, flinging himself back in front of the screen just in time to see Clint manage to take all of Phil down his throat.

Phil's lips are parted and small gasps of pleasure are being elicited from him as Clint does whatever magic he possesses to know how to reduce the unflappable agent to a writhing mess. Pulling his own cock out, Tony lubes up his hand and strokes himself in time to Clint fucking his face on Coulson's dick. Even with both Fury and Phil's hands near Clint's neck and head, Tony can see that Clint is the one controlling the pace of the proceedings, their touches gentle and encouraging, but neither one forcing or restricting Clint's movement other than the one on his wrists.

It goes on like that for a while, Clint seemingly trying his best to get all of the noises he can out of Coulson, who Tony wouldn't have really taken for a screamer. Maybe he normally isn't, he just knows how much Clint enjoys hearing the sounds he makes. Fury and Phil seemingly have a silent conversation over Clint's head and Phil drags himself away as Fury encouragingly pulls Clint backwards.

"You're so good at that," Phil pants, trying to catch his breath. "I swear you were born to suck cock, Barton."

And Tony can't help but agree. He's not entirely sure how Phil managed to hold out, because if he was the one Clint's mouth was on, he would have long given in and come. As it is, only having his hand for company, and as much as Tony would like to finish tossing off, he feels that he should see this through to the end. Tony slows his movements to a torturously unhurried pace, keeping himself in a frustrating limbo.

"Yours maybe," Clint says, voice rougher than normal and sounding so thoroughly sinful that Tony has to grip painfully tight to keep himself from coming from that alone. He can only hope he never hears Clint speak like that in person, or he's going to have some awkward erections to explain away.

"Definitely mine," Phil adds and leans down to Clint to lick at his lips and into his mouth as Phil pulls him into a kiss. Tony's hoping that Jarvis is actually keep a record of all of this, because it's better than any of the porn he's seen of late. Damn sexy SHIELD agents.

When Phil pulls back from Clint, Barton tilts his head backwards looking up at Fury with a raised eyebrow seemingly challenging him to know what's expected of him now.

"What do you think?" Nick asks Phil over Clint's head, talking as though Clint isn't really there. He's no longer holding onto Barton who, to Tony, seems to be getting frustrated at the lack of tactility. Ever since Tony started looking at the video feed, at least one of them has had some contact with Clint; touching him somewhere even if Barton hasn't been allowed to have his hands on them in turn. Not that Clint's voicing his clear annoyance at this new turn of events. "Do you think he's been punished enough for scaring us like that?"

The idea that either man actually gets scared seems so foreign to Tony that he can't help but look at how it seems to be a strain for both of them not to be touching Clint. Phil, who faced down Loki alone without even thinking about it, has a slight, miniscule, wouldn't be apparent to anyone not looking for it, twitch in the hand closest to Clint. It’s as though it's taking every fibre of his self-control not to be checking over every inch of Clint for even the smallest of bruises - even though he's likely seen Clint's medical report. Even Fury's jocular attitude, that Tony's seen slip so very few times, is barely present. Instead, Nick seems tense and even he looks as though just touching Clint will reassure him that Barton's actually there with them. Whatever sort of punishment they think this is for Clint, it’s clear that it's causing them as much discomfort. It makes Tony wonder just how long they've been together and how they manage to deal when they can't be around one another and whether it felt like their hearts were in Loki's palm when he'd taken Clint. Because as much as Tony did misguided things when Pepper was with him, at least his job and life weren't as inextricably linked as theirs are on a daily basis.

"I don't know. He's right though. For him, he was very good." Even as Coulson's saying the words, he's loosening his belt and removing his trousers, shoes and socks. Everything gets neatly piled up on one of the chairs on the far side of the desk. Phil even shrugs out of his jacket, and places that over the back of the chair, leaving him padding around Fury's office in just his shirt at tie, yet behaving with the ease and confidence of him being fully dressed. "I think he should work for his reward, though. Up, Barton," he commands and Clint is on his feet in seconds, he claps his hands behind his back and bows his head slightly.

Phil circles Clint for a minute. He stops when he's between Clint and Nick, turning away from Barton to lean over and kiss Nick who's still seated. As he does, his ass brushes against Clint, Phil's shirt riding up to give Tony an unfortunately somewhat hindered view of a much nice posterior than he ever suspected Phil of having. Tony actually considers ordering Phil some better, well tighter anyway, fitting suits because the world should not be denied that knowledge. Clint's posture stiffens, but he doesn't move when it happens. Impressing Tony, because he'd be reaching out to touch if he could and he isn't even in the same building as them right now.

"Do you want help getting out of those clothes, Barton?" Fury asks. Phil's moved on to kissing his neck or whispering in his ear. Whatever it is, Tony can't get a good angle on it from where the camera is and the sensors aren't picking up anything if it's being said. "We haven't got all day, and you like to be a damn tease when you're stripping."

"Whatever you want, sir," Clint says. Tony's pretty sure he's smirking because what Nick's said is certain to be true.

Phil and Nick move as one. Standing behind Clint is Phil, and in front Nick. Their hands brush as they work on removing Clint's Hawkeye gear with practised ease of having done it many times. It doesn't take long before Clint's stood between them completely naked. Both men touching him with reverent fingers and Tony sees a shiver shoot up Clint's spine at their ministrations. His head is no longer bowed, instead Clint holds it defiantly high as though trying to tell them that he knows he's gorgeous and that, yes, they are privileged to touch him. Since Tony most definitely can't touch him, he does the only thing he can: touch himself.

Tony keeps observing, even as he wraps his fingers around his own cock. Watches Phil dig around in the desk for lube and hand it to Nick. Watches when Nick squeezes out some of the slick substance and takes Clint's cock in his hand. Watches as Nick teases at Clint’s erection until Clint's eyes flutter closed. Clint’s tongue darts out frantically to wet his lips. Without thinking about it, Tony starts to replicate Fury's movements and wishes that he wasn't just touching himself, that someone else was there to have his hands on, or theirs on him.

Phil sits on the desk and smiles softly. The love he feels for the others is clear on his face. It's mixed with an element of disbelief that Tony suspects is something to do with how damn lucky he is to have both of them. If Tony were in his place then he would find it difficult to believe as well. Not that Tony thinks Phil doubts their love; just that how could anyone ever be able to believe two such sexy, sassy men would be interested in the same person as well as each other?

In a flash, Nick moves his hands and spins Clint around to face Phil who moves in perfect sync with their movement and lifts his legs to wrap them around Clint, pulling him in closer. Phil's hand comes up to grip at Clint's neck and pull him down into a kiss. Nick's hand strokes down Clint's side before it grips at Clint's ass possessively.

"You have such a nice ass, Barton. I can't wait to spread you out on my desk and bury myself inside you," Nick purrs against Clint's neck just loud enough for Tony to hear.

Tony would be lying if he ever said that he hadn't fantasized about getting a chance at Clint’s ass. If it weren't for their amazing skills, Tony would have thought Nick had hired the Avengers for their looks. It’s hell being around them and not being allowed to touch. However, Tony may be many things, but overstepping team boundaries like that is not something he’s planning on doing. If he were to ever even consider it, the papers would say he was defiling a national hero or sleeping with everyone just like his playboy reputation leads everyone to believe. None of them deserve to have his reputation tarnish them. Inside his head, and apparently on his screen, will have to be as close as Tony ever gets.

Clint arches his back and pushes back into Nick even as Phil tries to keep him close. It's like a tug-of-war, yet none of them want anyone else to lose out. Tony isn't sure when he did it, but two of Nick's broad, skilful fingers are slick with lubricant. He pulls Clint's cheeks apart before sliding them both inside in one swift, practised movement causing Clint to pull back from Phil's mouth, his own hanging open as he sucks in a shaky breath, letting it out in a hiss that Tony thinks sounds a lot like, "yes."

"I could fuck you all day like this. Until you're just writhing and begging for me to stick my dick in you instead. Then again, we should probably put your mouth to some good use. As prettily as you beg, you know how much Phil likes you to use it on him." Nick pauses in his speech, but his fingers still twist and turn and stretch deep within Clint and Tony sees the other man is having a difficult time of staying still and keeping quiet. Clint's pupils are blown and he looks a second away from the begging Fury was talking about. "In fact, I think Phil should use your cock, whilst I'm using your ass." Nick pulled his fingers away out of Clint. "When was the last time he gave you a decent rim job?"

"He always does a more than decent job of it, you know that." Phil strokes his fingers down Clint's cheek and Clint tries to capture them in his mouth, but Phil pulls away. "But it's been far too long since he's fucked me with his tongue. You're right." Phil unwinds his legs from around Clint’s waist, turns and bends over the desk, bracing himself on his forearms. Nick's hand goes to Clint's shoulder, encouraging him to go down to his knees behind Phil. "Come on then, Barton. You know how I like it. Don't just stay there."

Clint drops the rest of the way to his knees, shuffles forwards slightly and holds his hands out tentatively to press them against Phil's ass. He takes a moment to explore the sensitive flesh with his fingers before they dip tantalizingly between Phil’s cheeks, pulling them apart. Apparently done with what little teasing he allows himself, Clint leans forwards and swipes his tongue along the Phil’s skin and then, given the guttural groan that comes from Phil puts it to good use.

Tony can't help himself. His hand picks up speed; fucking into his fist furiously. It's just too much for him to hold back anymore. He comes over his hand with a groan. Pleasure floods his system for far too brief of a period. His breath comes out in harsh pants as he tries to regain equilibrium.

Fuck.

For a few seconds, Tony just sits there. His body is lax and uncooperative as he comes down from the high. Dummy surprises him by bringing over a damp cloth to clean up, and Tony isn't too sure that he wants to dwell on the fact that his helper bot knew to do that. He certainly hasn't done anything like this in the lab before, at least not to as far as his memory serves, so where Dummy's picked it up is beyond him. Tony may have to have words with Jarvis.

The three men are still displayed on the screen and Phil looks about as wrecked as Tony feels. His head hangs down; mouth open as he gasps for breath. If not for Clint's hands grasping his shaking legs, Tony thinks that even with Phil's hold on the desk it wouldn't be enough to keep him upright. Nick seems to have followed Tony's line of thinking, and freed his own cock from the tight leather that restrained it to jerk off over the straight out of a porno image they are presenting.

"Stop," Phil says with a shuddery breath. "Stop, Barton. Fuck. That's enough."

Clint does as he's told instantly, but looks slightly put out at the fact he has to stop fucking Phil with his tongue. His hands smooth down Phil's legs stroking him in an attempt to ease the shaking. It takes a few minutes, but when Phil composes himself enough to stand unaided, he does, his hand trailing through Clint's hair when he turns to face them.

"Sit on the desk for me, Clint," Phil says. It isn't really a demand or a question. He just requests it. His voice isn't as stern as Tony's heard him be when on the job, but it's also not as soft as some of the things he's said to the others tonight.

Clint rises, gracefully, fluidly, as though his nakedness and arousal are such common place that he isn't hindered by it in the slightest. Tony completely admits to the fact that he'd be scrambling around with absolutely no grace whatsoever because sex and fun and just having those men around him like that would shatter what little composure he'd manage to pull together. Luckily, he supposes, he isn’t actually there, so all he needs to do is just sit there and watch in a shocked silence as Clint sits casually on the edge of desk and Phil pushes him down onto his back and climbs up there with Clint to straddle him. Nick moves closer to stand behind them, and Clint, hooks his legs around Fury to pull him closer to them both.

Phil leans back against Nick, turning his head so that they can share a kiss and Tony feels the stirrings of arousal flush through his body again. He's not really one to say no to a second round and so he lets his fingers drift down and tease at the sensitive skin of his balls. Fury slips his own hand down between them. Although Tony can't see what he's doing, the surprised moan that Clint tries to smother with one of his fists clenched against his mouth, Tony suspects that his fingers are doing a thorough job of stretching Clint further and seeking out his prostate. Leaning to kiss Phil's shoulder, Nick pulls away and out of from between Clint's legs so he can get more leverage and really work at finger fucking Clint. If Clint wasn't effectively pinned down by Phil on top of him, Tony thinks there would be a lot more writhing going on.

"You going to fuck me good, Clint?" Phil asks, leaning down so that he can nip at Clint's neck, sucking low enough on his collarbone to leave a mark that would go undetected once his uniform is back on. He shifts his weight so that he can lean on one arm and use his other to roam over Clint's body, tweaking at his nipples and stroking over the smooth skin. "I love it when you stretch me open and fill me up."

"Fuck. Godamn. Sir," Clint babbles, his back arching like a strung bow and pressing up into Phil. Words. Fingers. Only Clint knows which causes the reaction, but fuck is it hot.

With a brief press of lips to Clint's, silencing him, Phil leans back to sit up properly once more. Nick reaches his free hand down so that he can slick up Clint's cock and make it ready for Phil to ride. Once he finishes lubing Clint up, although, not before his thumb plays teasingly over the head of Clint's cock, Nick holds Clint's erection still, letting Phil sink down onto it at his own pace. He's slow at first, Tony can see a slight pinch of tension in his face, probably down to the fact he wasn't prepared all that much, but it doesn’t stop him. Soon enough Phil's got the whole of Clint's length inside of him and Nick's hand has moved to Phil’s hip, aiding their movement as Phil rocks himself up and down on Clint, grinding his hips. The sounds of their increased breathing rate echoes around in Tony's head.

Pulling his fingers from inside Clint, Nick slicks up his own cock, and stills Phil's movement. It wrenches a strained moan from Phil who seems to be enjoying himself a lot, his hand moved to stroke himself in time with his movements.

"Am I going to get to come tonight?" Phil complains good-naturedly, but he quiets when Nick lines himself up and pushes forwards into Clint in a smooth thrust. The momentum of Nick slides the other men across the desk slightly.

"Don't moan," Nick tells him as he starts to fuck into Clint with purpose. "Just put his cock to good use," he adds through a strained breath. Even though he says it, his hand joins Phil's on his cock, their fingers entwine together as they both work at getting Phil off. Somehow, the three of them build up a rhythm Tony thinks has required a lot of practice to get looking as flawless as it does.

His own hand keeps playing with his balls before slipping behind them to press at his perineum as his other hand works over his cock. Tony's not come so quickly in this short of a time period in a while, but his body is aching for it and so he just lets it happen, riding the wave to the peak of pleasure.

It doesn’t take long before Phil comes, Clint not far behind, and Phil moves off him when he does, off to the side with some of Clint's come leaking out and down his thigh. Phil's shirt now crumpled and definitely not up to his normal standard, he lies down next to Clint on the desk. Nick's pace picks up now that's he’s unhindered by Phil’s presence and Clint just lies there and takes it even as he whimpers slightly, likely starting to feel oversensitive from his orgasm. Even though his seems completely boneless, Clint’s legs still come up and demandingly pull Nick closer to him.

Phil's hand slips between his own legs, fingers covered in his own come, where they delve into his own ass. He pulls them away with Clint's come added to his own. Rolling over onto his side, Phil offers his fingers to Clint. "Clean me up. You made a mess."

Clint hungrily sucks on them and with a grunt, Nick comes as well.

Their panting fills the room.

"You're right," Nick says as he pulls from Clint's body which looks like it's about to shut down and just let him drift off to sleep, "we made a mess." He opens a draw and finds some wipes to clean Clint down tenderly as well as handing a couple to Phil so he can tidy himself up. Once clean, Nick wraps Clint in a blanket and carries him over to the sofa that is in his office. He strokes Clint's cheek, the other man leaning up into the touch with a soft purr, before Fury cleans himself up and tucks his cock away.

In this time, Phil's dug out a clean shirt and dressed, looking as impeccable as ever, if a little flushed. He comes over to the sofa kneeling beside it and offering Clint a drink from a bottle of water. Clint takes a sip and then leans up with a feeble plea of "Phil."

Phil closes the rest of the gap between them and rubs their noses together, before pressing a quick kiss to Clint's forehead. "You were amazing. Sleep. Nick'll be here to look after you. I just have to go and do a couple of work things. I'll be back in a few hours. I love you."

Clint huffs lightly, but doesn't protest.

Tony watches as Phil gives Nick his own kiss goodbye before leaving them. Nick lifts Clint's legs gently so he can sit under them and he rubs at Clint's feet until Clint drops soundly to sleep.

"Don't think this is going to be a regular thing," Fury says. He's looking straight at the camera. Staring Tony down with his good eye as though he knows that Tony's there and watching. "This wasn't for you, or about you. It was for him." A nod in Clint's direction clues Tony in on exactly which him he's referring to.

The screen goes blank.

Tony should have known it was far too easy.


End file.
